Twas 2K11

Twas the night BEFORE the holiday party and I got an e-mail about 8:40
It was Ben Keller, “Hey, what’s up ya’ll, Betsy and I are having a shorty.”
Huzzah for Ben, Betsy, Danielle and Steve, and all the new babies born this year
We raise a glass to you and offer a cheer!

Huzzah!

Yes, well, ‘twas NOW the night of the holiday party and everyone was getting dressed
I was in my office rocking back and forth, my knees pulled to my chest
Chris Claeys walked in and said with a cough, and a bit of phlegm
“Hey, Stein, um, why are the lights off, do I need to replace them?”
“No,” I said. “They’re good. I just need to sit in the dark for a bit.”
I have to read a poem tonight and, well, I ain’t got nothing writ.”
“Doesn’t this happen every year?” he said with concern in his voice
“Yes, I don’t know why I do this, especially as it’s by choice.”
“Well, you better get it together because it’s almost time.
But no matter what you do, you make that fucker rhyme.”
“Ok, you’re not helping, I don’t even have the first line.”
“Twas the night something something, get your coat, you’ll be fine.”

But before we could do anything Santa appeared at the door.
He had a look in his eye, one that said he needed a score
But what really got our attention was the knife in his hand
“Hey,” said Chris. “My daughter sells that brand.”
“Back off old man,” said St Nick brandishing his blade.
“Whoa, who are you calling old? Please. Like I’m really afraid.”
“Don’t make me cut you, man, I’ll fucking cut you! I swear!”
“Ok, Santa, please put the knife down and have a seat in the chair.
But in a quick Kris Kringle clip, Santa sprinted down the hall
“I’m losing my buzz, man,” he said, “I gotta make a call.”

We tried to follow him but he was running too fast
We saw Amy who said, “Yeah, I saw him, he just ran past
He was huffing and puffing like he couldn’t catch his breath
And he said something about needing to score some more meth”
Chris Hafner came round the corner in a cowboy hat and bolo
“Hey dudes, do you have any idea where I could hang my Han Solo”
“Wait, what?!” said Brain Higgins coming through the door
His Star Wars excitement impossible to ignore
“You have Han Solo, that’s gotta be quite a sight.”
“Yeah man, it’s awesome, it’s him suspended in carbonite.”
Cody McGuire strolled up to us with a drink in his hand
“I know what you’re thinking, but this pink shirt makes me the man.”

Nick Chiou was right on cue.
“I know then make those shirts for men, too.”
“Dude, I’m gonna finish this drink, and then you.”
“This isn’t really the time,” I said. “And I don’t mean to be a dick”
“But I think we have other problems, we need to find St Nick.”

We split up and I went round the south side
Tried to think where Pere Noel might try to hide
From Jason’s room I heard what sounded like crying
I crept over quietly so no one knew I was spying
Santa was cowered in the corner with pillows around him like a fort
Jason was smiling, “You know what you need, a nice shot of Malort!”

Santa took a sip and his cheeky red glow took on a greener demeanor
“What the fuck is that, dude? It tastes like an industrial cleaner?”
“Be a man, Santa, throw it back and take a good swig.
Before you know it, you’ll be flying high and dancing a jig.”
Santa drank it down in one gulp and wiped off his chin
“Wow, that is absolutely terrible,” he said with a grin

He ran out the door with me right behind
Santa drunk on Malort was bad for us and bad for mankind
Before he got to the elevator and had a chance to flee
I yelled out, “Someone help! Don’t let him go free!”
Cathi Fremer appeared and took him down with a boom
“What,” she said, “Did you think Troy Polamalu was just a costume?”
“I did,” I said. “But not any more.”
“Geez, man,” said Santa, “I was just trying to score.”

Santa stood up, shook out the cobwebs, and smoothed down his suit
“I’m okay to fly,” he said. “And honestly, this has been a hoot.
On Dustin, on Dan, on Brian-“
“Whoa, hey, as a general rule
You don’t fly interns, Santa, it’s just not cool.”
“Hey Papa Bear, settle down, don’t get so miffed
Old Oak Tap, right? I was just going to give them a lift.”
“Oh-“
“No, I’m kidding, I was totally going to hook ‘em up to the sleigh.
But it’s cool, I understand that shit’s not ok.”
And with that Santa got in the elevator going down
But not before he kicked his heels and turned around
“I hope my meth addiction hasn’t given you too much fright
So, we’re cool, we’re totally cool, we’re tight?”
“Yeah, I guess everything’s alright.”
“Awesome. Happy birthday to Chris Hafner, Happy Holidays to all and to all a good night!”

Video Pam took...

Cadence

the flow or rhythm of events, especially the pattern in which something is experienced: the frenetic cadence of modern life.

So, I'm into the social media. I find it fascinating. I find it time consuming, and perplexing. I find it frustrating and amusing. But mostly I recognize it as an intriguing new art/communication form/forum.

Personally, I know I would do much better on an anti-social network, but that's just me.

'Bah. You kids get out of my bandwidth! Stay off my wall! Don't stand in the feed!'

But I digress.

It's a brave new social world. Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, MySpace, blahster, mehster, etc... And while you probably don't NEED it, social media isn't going anywhere. It's only going to get bigger, and count more.

Social media - regardless of its source/platform - is ultimately an authentic communication. It's something created by YOU for YOU (and/or your network) that represents YOU.

Facebook is the ultimate social network. You friends are on it. Your co-workers are on it. Your clients. Your mom. It's made the web smaller and more manageable. You can surf to any corner of the internet and 'like' something and then easily report back to your friends and family. Further, it's rendered most brand websites obsolete, or as billboards redirecting visitors to its Facebook site.

But on a personal level, Facebook is you. Not from one status update, or two. But as a collection. If you are a fun decent polite human being, you will share your thoughts and digital meanderings accordingly. You will like your friend's posts and you will add colorful commentary. You will share things to their wall - either to their amusement or consternation. On the flip side, if you are compelled to go on about your religion, politics, weight struggles, workouts, family histories, bad moods, sleep cycles, hatred of work, and love of your lol cat/dog/child - you are probably irritating in real life as well. Just as if you are a blowhard who thinks your every passing thought is pure whimsy spun of a brilliant golden hue for everyone to enjoy.

Facebook is not your blog. It is not your journal. It's a well lit place for children. Specifically, it's a community center with all your friends, family, co-workers, and clients. That is, it's a relatively civilized place with people to whom you are familiar. More specifically, it is like a craft fair. Here someone is scrapbooking. There someone is singing a song. Over by the free coffee someone is bragging about their kids. In the corner over there someone is blathering on about current events. In the other corner someone is showing a video about pot belly pigs that skateboard. It's ok to look around, and have a beer - get a little loose. There are a lot of interesting things on display. Some you could probably make yourself, some that are simply amazing. If you wanted to, you could take out photos from your family vacation and put them up for people to see. It's that kind of place. Ultimately, there are many things to share and like.

Twitter is hard to explain. It's sort of like a micro blog, and it's sort of like EVERYTHING. It's a meat market, a coffeeshop, and a pharmacy. It's a closet, a pulpit and a soapbox. It's a news stand and a 'zine. It's the cosmos of email, as well as the very tip of the pin. It's a gentle stream, an avalanche, and a furious thunderstorm.

It is the great void, the bright abyss.

It is the best thing on the internet.

If you want to tweet, you have 140 characters. It's like Haiku. Be succinct. Be precise. Have at it.

But you don't have to tweet to enjoy Twitter. If you are a human being with an interest in something, Twitter is for you. If you want to scream or yell or whisper, and not care if it's heard; if you want access to a celebrity (of any kind); if you want to know why the trains are not running; if you want to cheer/jeer a sporting event/tv show/uprising from anywhere in the world as it happens with thousands of other people; if you want to topple a government - Twitter.

LinkedIn is like a large clean gym for mathaletes - remember to pick up your badge at the front door. It's nerdy and awkward. Maybe it's for schmoozing and rubbing digital elbows with peeps in your industry. I don't really know. The iPhone app is pretty cool, though. It's nicely done - from a very nerdy 'badge at the front door' pov. That said, I don't really understand LinkedIn unless you're looking for a job.

GooglePlus is a weird amalgam of Facebook and Twitter, but it seems much less a public forum and more a bunch of cliques, yet still a public forum. It's weird. It's powerful because it's Google. It's cool because it's Google. But it's weird because it's Google. It's probably ahead of its time. I've not fully embraced G+, but I like it. At least, I appreciate it as a competitor to Facebook.

Foursquare is a GPS social media app. You get points for checking into places. If it's a new place you're checking into, you get extra points and maybe you get a free cup of coffee or appetizer. You compete against your friends to win mayorships and badges (digital). The points themselves are worth less than air miles. I used to 'play' 4sq. But I found myself ALWAYS losing to someone, and beating someone (anyone) wasn't terribly rewarding. And I was becoming even more obsessive-compulsive about using my phone than I already was. So I don't 4sq anymore unless it's when I travel, which is usually to get a free coffee or appetizer.

In short, I'm the mayor of my home and that's fine. That's all I need.

MySpace is for musicians. Flickr is for photographers. Instagram is for iPhoneographers. YouTube is for anyone and everyone with access to a video camera and a short attention span. Tumblr is a theme/meme blog. StumleUpon is ferociously entertaining. Friendster is for... I dont know what Friendster is for. Path seems like it's just for you, as in ONLY you.

Here's the thing about sharing media socially across the internets; all the heavy lifting has been done by these various platforms. You don't need to know css, html5, perl, java, blahblahblah9. You just need online access and the willingness to share. That's it.

Let's say you want to share some vacation pictures. You create an album on Facebook. Fin. You're done. Whether your Great Aunt Gladys has a Mac, a PC, Firefox, Safari, Mozilla, a tablet in iOS or Android, a Samsung, iPhone, or Droid - Facebook knows - and it will display the information accordingly. So if you post Saturday night, and Gladys doesn't see the post until Wednesday morning, she WILL see it. She doesn't have to get you on the phone or wait until the Spring to walk her through it. She doesn't need to ask the neighbor boy over. And she can 'like' it or comment about how much your kid is growing or whatever, and you WILL see it. You might not see it until the following Saturday because you're busy with work and life and everything else, but when you do - you and your Great Aunt Gladys will have a connection. And in modern society where we all get lost in the common routine of days - that's pretty cool.

Smartphones. This is a big part of social media because they offer mobility. Social is mobile. It's alive. It moves, it appears, it shows up, it attends, it records, it checks in.

It posts, it shares.

I love my smartphone... But the 'phone' part is a bit of a misnomer. Yes, I can make a phone call, but these things are mini-computers/cameras. They are extraordinary devices. And they are always with you, usually in your pocket of purse.

I use my iPhone4 like a Swiss Army knife. Sure, it has a compass, can lock in my gps location, and knows the forecast two weeks out - but that's not what I mean. I use it to get the news. I use it to text/email/message my friends and family. I use it to buy diapers from Amazon and a cup of coffee at Starbucks. I use it to post videos of my daughter to Tumblr. I use it post random angry thoughts while at the grocery on Twitter. I use it to share vacation photos on Facebook. I use it for instant creative expression on Instagram.

All that said, spending this much time geeking/learning/sharing/grokking has led to some epiphanies:

Epiphany 1 - Each platform is its own artform. How/what you post on Facebook is not how/what you post on Twitter, etc. People who cross/duplicate the streams appear in my feeds as someone sending out communications from the department of the redundancy department.

Epiphany 2 - Facebook is better than email. I get TONS of useless emails. Well, when I say tons, I mean hundreds a day. Most of them are telling me what to buy and where to buy it. Actually, on some level, almost 94% of my emails are telling me what to buy and where to buy it. 2% is from African royalty asking me to launder money. And the last 4% are emails I care about - family, friends, and work. So Facebook is better because whenever I get a message, it will be from someone I care about.

Epiphany 3 - Twitter is the BOMB. A couple weeks ago, I got off the plane and went to baggage claim. The American Airlines monitors that SHOULD have had the baggage claim info were instead touting the American Airline mobile apps. Ok, great, but where are my bags? So I tweeted exactly that with a picture of the monitors. Within 5 minutes, AA tweeted back asking where I was and that they were going to look into it. WHY? Because Twitter is a public forum, and everyone can see. And don't even get me started about Jenna Jameson...

Epiphany 4 - Social media has created a new kind of social currency - of sorts. Not just how many friends you have or how many followers? But who likes what you say/share? How many? Who shares it and retweets it? How many times? This is all online, of course. You have to be online; either tethered to your computer, or walking the earth with your smartphone. But that's not necessarily true because - what we do online echoes in reality. Or at least it can as people come up to face to face and say things like, "Hey, did you see my tweet?" "Dude, your post was awesome." "Did you see your girlfriend's wall, man? You guys might be done."

Revelation - If nothing else, Facebook is great for wishing/collecting birthday wishes.

I could continue to blather on about social media, but I've already blathered on too much already. Bottom line, social media is the new TV. But you get to program it. Stream it. And produce it.

In short:

Movember Movember

the first of november
begins the month of movember
a day as beardless i cannot remember
when i breathe out from my nose
i can feel it on my chin
it's something only those
can know as my kin
or mo bros as they are called
be they low brows or high brows
ps. except for my eyebrows
i'm pretty much bald

MOVEMBER

I cannot remember the last time I saw my chin, or knew how many I had. (There are two.) Nor my upper lip. (Just one.) It's so weird to see my face, my whole face. I remember it from my childhood, round and fat. The last time I saw it was when I was in college. But I moved to New Orleans after my sophomore year and enrolled at the University of Life (affiliated with the school of Hard Knocks). I grew a goatee then and have not seen my face since.

The goatee is my face anchor. It keeps my nose and eyes from drifting off into a puddle of skin.

I remember the brick of hair that used to sit on top of my head. One day post-college pre-job I was at the 7-ll waiting in line looking into the security cam monitor. The man in front of me had a bald spot. Unconsciously I reached my hand up to the back of my head. What was weird is that the man was did the same thing. In fact he was mirroring my every move.

Oh.

Crap.

That's when I decided I would adopt a new hairstyle, one I've dubbed acceptance. Every few days I shave my head at the number 2 setting; 7 o'clock shadow, if you will.

My wife never knew me with a full head of hair (other than pictures at my parent's house). But that is not by design. It's by DNA. And until last night, she has never known me without facial hair.

Enter Movember.

For the month of November men raise facial hair to raise awareness about illnesses that affect men such as prostate cancer. Friends at work have formed a mustache team, of which I am a member. This is my first year doing it. I am not really sure about the raising money part. But I do have the geekery part down. I have the Movember app, and more importantly the Everyday app.

Last night when my wife and I sat down to watch tv, I knew she hadn't noticed. It's funny what's a big deal to you, other people could care less. Or hardly see if the lights are dimmed. I leaned in against her and kissed her cheek. She still didn't notice. So I did it again and lingered my lips against the back of hand.

"Oh my god, did you do it?"

She reached for the light and stared into my fleshy face.

"You did. Oh my god. Where are you?"

I smiled and ducked my chin down, brought my lips in.

"I know, it's weird," I said.

"No," she said. "It's not weird. Um, ok, it's a little weird. It grows back, right?"

As we sat there watching the clean shaven face of Dexter waxing poetic about his dark passenger, I felt a breeze on my chin - as if there was a draft.

"Do you feel that?" I asked.

"What?"

"Like there's a window open. Is there a window open?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"It's November. There are no windows open. Maybe you're coming down with something."

"No, I'm fine. I don't feel it now."

We continued to watch TV, but I felt the draft again. It seemed to come in gentle rhythmic bursts, as if someone were breathing.

Oh.

Crap.

It was me. Each time I exhaled from my nose I could feel it on my chin.

WEIRD.

Don't get me wrong, I'm as vain as the next guy. I feel naked without my chin jacket. But it's just facial hair. It will grow back. And it's for a good cause.

PS. Now that I think about it, there was one other time I remember seeing myself sans facial hair. It was somewhere in the early 90s. I had graduated from college (yes, I went back and finished) and I was living in Berkeley with S & C in a two bedroom apartment on California St just off University Ave. The Berkeley Hills were on fire. Firetrucks were screaming, black smoke hung in the sky, and it was on every channel. We decided to volunteer, maybe we could help. Before leaving the apartment I shaved everything but a mustache. No, I don't know why I did that, but I remember saying, "Fire purifies. Fire purifies."

And I remember I looked like the construction worker from the Village people, only bald.

So you have that to look forward to...

;-)

Dance Moms

I know we're all obsessed with car accident style reality shows. It makes us feel superior and safe.

It's human nature to listen for the sensual skid of rubber on asphalt and anticipate that boss bang of steel. And it's human nature to slow down and look for pieces of hair and brain in the windshield, and then hope to see the twisted and broken bodies through the flames and smoke.

It's normal.

Morose, but normal.

Last night I turned on the TV. Dance Moms. In some ways it's a show about desperate horrible mothers and their super sexy seven year old daughters. And in other ways... Actually, no. That IS what it's about.

And some giant she-beast who yells at them.

I'm all about pushing the envelope on these reality shows - short of Hunger Games. Hell, we've SEEN the dead on Deadliest Catch with the bodies floating face down in the icy water. But here's the problem with Dance Moms; there are kids' lives in the viewfinder.

Yes, I understand we NEED child dancers to entertain us in life. I totally get that. Just like we need little dogs wearing pants and balancing on balls. Or cats in tiny hats that can play the piano.

Totally. Get. That.

If this show were just about the moms, I could give a f*ck. It would be like the Housewives or Kardashian shows where they've given their consent that their likeness may appear as an asshole across the universe in perpetuity. That's totally fine. They're adults. They can lie, cry, scream, fight, drink, gossip, backstab and call each other names. Don't care.

But to see a little seven year old girl in full harlot makeup and sexy bare midriff shaking her moneymaker is shameful. It just is. Even I know that.

Oh, won't someone think of the children?!

Maybe like a lot of reality shows, this is fake. Perhaps the venomous she-beast screaming at the kids is an actress. And perhaps when the little girl cries and ponders suicide because she may not make it as a dancer - she's just acting.

I don't know. It seems exploitative, in poor taste, and sad.

I can't watch it. I won't watch it.

Weeds

Dear Weeds,

You suck. Sorry, dude. But you like totally suck.

When we first started hanging out, you were like awesome, man. You were like funny and cool. You were clever and fun. You were like totally smart and witty. I like got a contact high. It was awesome.

And you were fast, dude. Like 28 minutes an episode or something. I was always bummed our time was so short.

Remember that song? Little boxes, little boxes... Remember? Man, I dug how there was always a different version.

And I dug how I had to figure out the suburban sameness stuff of the opening title sequence. That was cool, man. It was like Where's Waldo or something.

And dude, I totally dug that you were all about a mom drug dealer who lived in the suburbs. That was hilariously awesome! I like totally cared about her. And even Celia who was her frenemy. I cared about everyone. I liked them, man. I totally liked hanging with everyone.

But now everyone either sucks or they're a douche bag.

Dude, Nancy sucks douche bags.

What happened, man? What's that thing you do up front with Jenji's name? What IS that? It's embarrassing, man. Seriously. It's like you're texting it in.

You know where it went downhill? When the Botwins went traveling around the country. What was that? The 6th season? That was like the longest episode ever. The very last episode was good - the one at the airport. That was like old times, man. Clever, cool. But that 6th season was skunk, man.

And this last season was the same thing. Only it was worse. It was ditch, man. Just one long ass episode until the very end when Nancy gets shot - if that's what really happened.

I don't know, man. It feels like you're just collecting a check. It's lame. Not cool, dude.

You suck.

Terra Nova Rock-n-rova!

We just watched Terra Nova. It's like one part 1984, one part Lost, one part Land of the Lost, and one part Jurassic Park.

It's a dystopian future set in 2149. You can't hardly breathe the air and you're only allowed to have x amount of children. A tear in the time space continuum allows people to go back 85 million years. (I'm sure this will be explained in greater detail. It was touched on and it sort of quelled any how the fuck are they not going to fuck with their own future questions - at least for the time being.) It's governmental about who can go back - because if everyone went through the portal all at once it was be total chaos - like a Metallica or Who convert. There are dinosaurs, neo-neo hippies, electricity, and a certain amount of natural human treachery.

It's too early to tell if it's just going to be good, or great. I'm hoping great. We'll see...

Persons of Interest - Seriously?

Like EVERYONE else, I loved Lost. Sure, I understand if you missed it from the very first episode, you were essentially - lost. But it was brilliant. Great characters, great story lines, great mysteries. You go, JJ Abrams! Well done!

And then there's Fringe, which is also great. Each episode gets wrapped up at the end, BUT there's a bigger mystery that connects them all. I tip my hat to you, JJ. Huzzah! Heck, the White Tulip episode is one of the best of all TVdom.

(Although ironically, I just watched the season opener of Fringe and I found myself totally lost. Wait, where are we? What's going on? What's happening back then over there in the future?)

So it was with great anticipation that I found myself watching Persons of Interest - yet another Bad Robot production. It has the creepy leader of the Others from Lost (Michael Emerson), it has Jesus (Jim Caviezel), and it has the writer from Dark Knight (Jonathan Nolan). This thing is going to be off the CHAIN, yo!

Um, no.

Not only is it still connected to the chain, it's locked up in the back yard. I felt like I was watching one of my parent's cop shows - CSI, Law & Order, NCIS, Blue Bloods - take your pick.

When something just so totally sucks as much as this, I cannot go over the inanity of the plot with you. That's just bad AND dull. There is a 'twist', but it's the kind you find in the preface of the Junior Twist handbook. Oh, and concerning character development - within the first 7 minutes Jim Caviezel goes from homeless derelict loner on the train to super spy in a smart looking suit (and then fashion forward jeans and smart looking leather jacket) who cares about people. And apparently Michael Emerson has a limp. It's hard to tell.

WTF?!

Eye roll...

Yawn.

I don't see how Persons of Interest will hold a person's interest.

I'm disappointed, JJ. Very disappointed.

X-Factor.y

Last night I turned on the tv and X-factor was on. Just like that. Didn't look for it, didn't set it up for a recording. It was just there. So I started watching it. I watched for about 9 minutes.

It looked just like American Idol. Just like it. There was a guy who looked a lot like Randy Jackson, but was NOT Randy Jackson. There was a woman who looked a lot like Paula Abdul who actually was Paula Abdul. And there was a guy - albeit somewhat older - who looked a lot like Simon Cowell who actually was Simon Cowell.

And there was some other woman with an Irish accent. I have no idea who she is or who she would be in an AI scenario.

Oh, and it's Pepsi instead of Coke.

Anyway, there's no host, but they did spend a few montage minutes on how Simon and the guy who's supposed to be Randy - just can't find common ground. One says yes, the other says no. One says black, the other says white. You get it.

Tension. Conflict.

Ok, so some woman comes on and sings a Pussycat Doll song. I don't think she's good. Neither does the Randy Jackson guy. Simon likes her so she will go to the next round.

The music starts as they introduce Stacy Francis - a 42 year old single mom with a 3 year old and a 5 month old. Something like that. The music tells us we need to care about her and feel bad for her. Apparently she has a dream, she's struggling to make ends meet, blah blah blah.

She's almost in tears as she stands there introducing herself to the judges. Her friend watching the kids backstage IS crying.

"What song are you going to sing, Stacy?"

"Natural Woman, Aretha Franklin."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ok. Best of luck, sweetheart."

Stacy then proceeds to rip the roof off the place. Rips it right off. I mean, the heavens open up and the Lord is looking down with his mouth hanging open. Whatever the X factor is, Stacy has it. You don't have to be a Hollywood record producer to know you can add another garage to your mansion. The ENTIRE audience is beside themselves. This is a Susan Boyle moment. Maybe not as grotesque, but it's gold. She gets a standing ovation and her cheeks are black with mascara.

All the judges say yes. No suspense here. Duh.

The music sweeps in AGAIN cuing us that we should feel triumphant and blessed. But as Stacy is walking back to wherever they store the contestants, she's pushing a stroller. I'm pretty sure it's an Orbits stroller. This is a $1000 stroller with some bells and not all whistles. I'm not sure how much Stacy is struggling. Nonetheless, she's got the pipes.

Anyway, as far as AI and XF - it's a Seattle's Best compared to a Starbucks. It tastes the same.

And it will also turn out an Xfactory of CDs, DVDs, downloads, and tours.

Dear Instapeeps

I love Instagram because I love my iPhone and my daughter - although not necessarily in that order.

I don't really use it as a Social Media channel. I'm just taking snaps of my kid. The ones I like, I curate/post to Tumblr.

So I'm posting this here to tell you that I'm not trying to hog the instafeed, nor I am trying to pander for likes or comments as I fire off shot after shot of my little girl. Don't get me wrong, I like the likes and comments, and just last night I discovered there were quite a few. So thank you.

But mostly I'm just geeking the filters and playing with the tilt shift.

;-)

Two things:

1) The new Instagram update is great.

2) Followgram Me, which is a place to view your Instagram photos, is pretty cool. I'm here.

2.5 Men - 1 Man + 1 Man = Sucks

When I heard Charlie Sheen 'lost his mind' and turned into a rock star warlock from Mars while essentially jumping out the window of Two and a Half Men, I thought, "Wow! That's crazy! Charlie is crazy! Why would he throw all that away and make such a spectacle of himself?! How crazy!"

I have one and half things to say about this upon reflection, and in light of the new show that just aired starring Ashton Kutcher.

1) Charlie Sheen is not crazy.

.5) What if this was all planned?

Let's start with the first point, in which I must confess I've never watched Two and a Half Men. I've seen a clip here or there while surfing - maybe consuming 4 minutes of its 8 seasons. I assessed that Charlie and Jon Cryer are brothers. Angus is the son of Jon. They live in Malilbu in Charlie's house. For some reason Charlie has money, he's able to bed lots of women, and admits to a loutish reputation. I have no idea if that's correct. I've never watched the show. It strikes me as lame and boorish.

But because of all the ballyhoo and buzz, I could not miss Charlie's antics, name calling, firing, resulting Torpedo tour, and Ashton Kutcher stepping up to fill his shoes. I'm a regular person with cable, internet, and the occasional tabloid magazine in line at the grocery.

Charlie Sheen is CRAZY!

Duh.

So I watched the 9th season premiere along with 28.7 million people - the most viewers in its history. Again, I don't know the premise of the show. But the new season opens with the funeral of Charlie. Women tell the things he left them - herpes, vaginal warts, etc. Someone wants money owed him for 'pharmaceuticals'.

THANK GOD the show uses a laugh track. The ONLY funny line I can recall was when the 'widow' explains Charlie died when he was hit by a train and "exploded like a balloon full of meat". That was funny.

But what a steaming stream of stinking shit Two and a Half Men is. It IS boorish and lame - even with this extraordinary opportunity to reinvent/reboot itself.

8 seasons?

Seriously?

No, seriously?

Sigh.

I don't need to tell about the rest of the show. Ashton will be a kindler/gentler Charlie. That's pretty much it.

So, to conclude my first point, 8 seasons of lame one liners and canned laughter mixed with LOTS of money and celeb status - no wonder Charlie Sheen wanted out. I get it.

Now let me address my half point:

Tv Star + (Appearance of) Crazy X Publicity = RATINGS.

Ok, that's not rocket surgery. Let's also all know that despite the brilliance of having a two part opener, the ratings are going to DIVE. But now let's jump ahead to the tenth or eleventh season when the show MUST come to an end. Charlie Sheen is back on earth and in Hollywood's good graces now that he's been paid what he's owed, and he's getting all the syndication money. Everyone loves everyone. Right? So why wouldn't they bring Charlie back from his closed casket 'death' and go for a ratings campaign AGAIN?

Money. In. The. Bank.

Hmmm, maybe that's more than half a point.

Nonetheless, I feel my math is correct. Feel free to add it up yourself.

Jersey Shore - tv show, short bus

I've been to New Jersey. There's a reason it's called the garden state. It's beautiful. I've heard there are parts that are not so pretty. The part I saw was pretty.

And, of course, there's Springsteen.

Love. Springsteen.

But then there's this TV show called Jersey Shore. There's a good chance you've seen it, or know about it. I've seen it. There was so much buzz and ballyhoo I HAD to see it. So I found it on the Mtv and watched it.

A) I'm probably too old for this show.

B) I'm probably too old for the Mtv.

Jersey Shore is fascinating in the way all reality tv shows are fascinating. It's a car accident. It's human nature to slow down, peer into the smoking wreckage, and look for body parts. Call it rubbernecking. Call it bloodlust.

Or call it ratings.

In school, or at home, somewhere you learned NOT to make fun of the people on the short bus. These people were often called retarded, or retards. There, I said it. Retards. It wasn't nice to make fun of them. It's still not nice to make fun of them. And further, if you're politically correct, you don't even use that word. You say mentally challenged. Of course, you might say m'tarded among close friends. Whatever.

Jersey Shore is a show about the people on the short bus, and if that short bus was in a car accident. It really isn't nice. You watch them drink and yell and fight and make fools of themselves. I feel bad for them - the cast. I mean, with their residuals, tv commercials, and other endorsements, I don't feel THAT bad. But I feel bad that they are retarded, on fire, and covered in blood. In real life I would call 911, get out of my car, and do what I could. Absolutely. I know it. But with this, I can't even slow down to look. I don't want to. Am I above it? No. Do I find it shameful, sad and embarrassing? Yes.

Sigh...

I guess I just roll up the window, and drive on...

It's a town full of losers, and I'm pulling out of here to win...

Twitter Rocks!

Facebook is nice, you can't help but 'like' it. Youtube is great because you can see it ALL. Google is brilliant because you can know EVERYTHING.

Twitter fucking rocks!

Here is my epiphany about Twitter:

Twitter is the new CB radio.

1971: Breaker19, this is Papa Smurf! You around Foxy Lady?
2011: @papasmurf @foxylady OMFG! Hope I get 2cu! LOL!

Right? Are you picking up what I'm putting down?

People have handles and use jargon and there's always something happening somewhere. I know that's the most obvious and simple analogy. But here's the big one: Hashtags are the new convoy. #EverybodyGetOnBoard

BOOM!

Twitter is a constant feed of politics, news, celebs, sports, whatever your interest. But not only do you have this avalanche of information and links, you also have access to people. Anyone. Your best friend, your clients and peers, the famous. It's an ENORMOUS public forum.

That said, I recently learned I could follow porn stars. (Follow, not stalk.) Porn is ALWAYS ahead of everyone when it comes to technology. The thing about following porn stars on Twitter is that it's fun, funny, and FASCINATING!

Joanna Angel (@JoannaAngel)
9/13/11 5:03 PM
I did double vag for the first time this.morning @OMGitsJessieLee I thought of you the whole time !!!!!

Sure, there are xxx twitbots that will start to follow you, but you can block them. It's spam. C'est la net, non?

Yesterday morning I saw that Jenna Jameson (@jennajameson) had tweeted she didn't care for the True Blood finale. Well, I also didn't care for the finale and had just posted that on my blog. So I copied the url, hit reply on her tweet, and sent it off.

Yesterday I think had five hits - all of them mine. But this morning I saw there were more than a thousand. And that was pretty cool.

:-)

That's it. That's all I got.

Twitter rocks!

Well done, Biz & Jack!

PS. Thanks for the RT, Jenna!

Loose Change

I watched a documentary last night on the Netflix. Loose Change. It's about 9/11 and how we did it to ourselves. Specifically, Bush and the power elite - to us. It's a conspiracy theory video.

Conjecture.

Where is the wreckage of flight 93? Where is ANY video footage of ANY plane hitting the Pentagon? It's the PENTAGON - no surveillance? And why do the twin towers and WTC 7 seem to free fall as if there were controlled demolitions at play? They collapse into themselves in 8.4 seconds. How are these the ONLY steel buildings (in all of history) to collapse because of fire? Also, why are there explosions seen in the lower floors of the towers as they fall? What the fuck IS that? The weight of it all falling perfectly down?

Is this all a planned Pearl Harbor catalyst event? I ask because if the hijackers were all from Saudi Arabia, why did we go into Iraq looking for Saddam Hussein? How's the math work on that?

That happened, right?

The film is fascinating. It is. I mean I guess any conspiracy theory is fascinating because it makes you think. Like what the fuck happened to Kennedy? Magic bullet, what? Why does he grab his throat BEFORE his skull explodes?

We all know that rabbit hole goes deep.

And so does this.

I'm not saying I believe everything in this film, but it does bring up some pretty weird coincidences and points of fact. You can check it out here and here.

Of course, it's debunked here and here.

Who the fuck knows? No matter who did it, how it happened, and whatever else - it's terrifying. Period.

Although, I suppose if the conspiracies are true, then it's more terrifying.

Falling Skies Fucking Sucked

What a shiny wet turd this was. Amazingly awful! Should have been called Falling Crap.

I started watching because Spielberg had his name attached. Noah Wiley, I could care less. But Spielberg - this was going to be good. It was going to have aliens and mindblowing special effects. It was going to have a good story and decent writing. It was going to have good characters, funny one-liners, and it was going to have a heart.

Um, no.

First of all it starts somewhere in the middle. In the first two minutes of the show there is this montage of children's drawings showing/telling about the alien invasion. That's the whole set up. If you missed this, or thought it was just some crappy title sequence, you needed to go back - because what the fuck are we doing here, now?!

Seriously, WTF?!

So, bam, we're six months later with a band of survivors. Most of the world is dead. Ok, fine. I'll accept that. It's a bit off putting, not knowing the how, why, and what the fuck happened, but ok, this is going to be a story of survival. Fine. Bring it on.

Actually, you know what, this is a waste of time. I am not going to review/wrap up this lump of shit. I watched the whole fucking season because I'm a hopeful person who gives people (and tv shows apparently) the benefit of the doubt. I kept thinking, ok, something is going to happen, there's going to be an awesome twist and this thing is going to fucking rock!

IT SUCKED ASS! IT WAS A DUMB DUMB DUMB STUPID DUMB BAG OF DUMB!

I LOST HOURS OF MY LIFE ON THIS SHITTY SHITTY PIECE OF SHIT!

FUCK YOU, TNT!

FUCK YOU, STEVEN SPIELBERG!

Sorry.

I was shouting.

Didn't mean to shout. Just got carried away.

Falling Skies is awful.

Awful.

UPDATE (7.27.12):

So somehow FS got another season because I saw it was on. Damnit. Fuck. Ok, but not with commercials. No fucking way. I DVR'd it to watch later, and blew past the commercial. Even cut into the story, I didn't care. I just wanted to see if it was going to do something different, something good. I kept thinking, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I'm a dumbass. Well, I'm a dumbass and it's still a steaming pile of shit.

True Blood - Aaaaaaay!

Dear True Blood,

I like you. I think it's cool you're vampy and campy. I dig the gay/anti-social metaphor stuff. I don't mind that everyone is hyper attractive, or that you're a bit over the top and 'fantastic'. (Well, to be honest, you're more than a little over the top.) I think your opening credit sequence is one on the best on TV - it's badass. I like Bon Temps. I like your peeps. I think you're a lot of fun.

But, um, this was a terrible season with everyone trying on everyone else. It was almost like you ran out of ideas. (Or blew your budget.) Acting-wise, it could have been a lot more interesting. Story-wise, it was just dull.

And then the finale... awful. There was about an hour of nothing that went nowhere, and then some mediocre stuff in the last minute. When I deleted it off my DVR, I couldn't help but think that I may not see you again.

Please don't be mad. Let me explain. You're familiar with jumping the shark, right? Of course you are - you being all pop culture savvy and everything. Well, I can't say that you actually jumped it. It's more like you gutted it, overcooked it, and served it up on a paper plate. I don't know that I can take another bite.

I feel like I've invested a lot of time with you. I told my friends about you. I 'liked' you on the Facebook. And each season I have looked forward to seeing you. But with this last 'season of the witch', I think you've lost me.

If we see each other, cool. But if not, let's not make it a thing, ok?

Take care.

9/11

I remember it was a beautiful fall day. The sun was shining in a bright blue sky and the air was slightly crisp. I went to work early to discuss a project for the assistant editors. We walked across the street to the hotel to get a coffee and sit around in comfortable chairs. People were in the lobby of the hotel watching the TV. They were pointing at the screen. A plane had hit one of the towers. I remember thinking it was a movie, but couldn't figure out why they were staying on one shot for so long. Black smoke was pouring out of the building.

'What happened,' I asked.

'A plane hit one of the twin towers.'

I assumed it was a small plane, that some dumbass had got too close. But it was a lot of smoke for a small plane.

I don't remember if I saw the second plane hit as it happened, or I saw it on replay, but I remember feeling dumb. I felt dumb because after the first plane hit, I heard people speak of it as terrorism. Until the second plane hit, I thought it was an accident.

Breaking Bad is Freaking Awesome

Breaking Bad is the BOMB, yo!

I knew there was a show that started with the letter B that I was supposed to watch. I had it narrowed down to Breaking Bad or Burn Notice. A few weekends ago I was home visiting my folks and they said, "You want to watch Burn Notice?"

Ok, sure.

So I watched it with them.

I love my parents. I really do. But I don't live at home, and can't supervise them. Whatever they want to do with their DVR is up to them. If they want to fill it up with LA Law, golf, and WWII specials - they are free to do so. So I'm not saying Burn Notice sucked, but it was a lot like the A Team, only more like the C Team.

Weak.

So I Netflixed the dvds of Breaking Bad when I got home and within the first two minutes I was like, Ahhhh, THIS is the show. My wife and I devoured the first season. Now we're closing in on the end of Season 2. It is SO. FUCKING. AWESOME.

It gives me Battlestar Gallactica pause, in which I keep thinking, how did I not know this was on? Why didn't anyone tell me?

Oh, right. It's about a science teacher who finds out he only has a few months to live - lung cancer. So he befriends a former student/current drug dealer and makes some pharmaceutical grade meth and gets caught up in the drug world. It's sort of like Walter Mitty meets Tony Montana. Actually, it is like that. Walt starts to shed his old life, and breaks bad.

Two words, people. Brill yent.

(Geek alert - it's now available to stream on the Netflix.)
(Geek alert - this is the site featured in the story in season 2. What's cool is that it goes to the Nat'l cancer coalition. Nice.)

Breaking Bad AMC